New Kid
by Hamato Kameko
Summary: A new kid has come to skool, and just happens to be living with the Membrane family, marking her as a weirdo from day one. But how will she react when she sees Zim?
1. Chapter 1

"And watch out for Ms. Bitters. She's a little scary. Hey, did I mention the—"

"_Alien_," she finished for him, rolling her eyes as she adjusted her bag on her shoulders. "I heard you the first FIVE _THOUSAND_ TIMES, Dib. I _HEARD_ you." Dib continued anyway, apparently not taking the hint.

"He tries to pass himself off as a kid with a skin condition, but he's not. I mean, what kind of skin condition gives you _green _skin and no ears or nose? And there's no such thing as a skin condition that gives a person antennae. I've seen him without his disguise, he—"

She'd stopped listening; it wasn't so much that she didn't find it interesting, as that in the past 24 hours, she'd heard this a hundred times. "Later, Gaz," she called after the quickly disappearing form of Dib's little sister. Gaz kept walking but briefly raised a hand, and Xet was secretly gratified for the acknowledgment—Gaz had apparently accepted her, probably because she, too, didn't go anywhere without her Game Slave. If only she shared a class with _Gaz_ instead of _Dib_... She had a feeling living with Dib was going to be damaging to her social life. Then again, she realized as she glanced around at the other children rushing past them, that probably wasn't a bad thing.

Ugh, humans were a disgusting species. A large part of Xet's interest in aliens was the hope that any extraterrestrials with the technology to _get_ to Earth were also advanced enough to have triumphed over the filth and chaos that ruled the human race.

Besides, Dib wasn't so bad. A little annoying, maybe, but she got the feeling that a lot of his clinginess and endless chatter was because he was simply so thrilled to have someone who'd actually listen to him. Or sort of listen to him. Believe him, at any rate.

Except for the whole vampire donut thing. That was a little weird, even for Xet. Nevertheless, the incessant chatter was starting to get to her. Dib had stopped them in front of a classroom door—or rather just to the side; being in front of it would be dangerous if not deadly given the way other students barreled through the doorway. Xet finally could take no more and turned on the boy.

"Will you SHUT UP about this guy already?"

Dib stared at her for a moment before collecting himself. "B-But, I thought you—"

She sighed, a sound that was actually closer to a growl. "Dib, I said I _believe_ in aliens, and I _believe_ there could be aliens on Earth. But you can't honestly expect me to believe that an _actual_ alien _invader_ would subject himself to this dump of a skool every day, and without even a decent disguise."

"Bu—"

"Who's your _girlfriend_, _DIB_?"

Dib whirled around to face the originator of the taunt. "She's not my _girlfriend_, _ZIM_. And you'd better leave her alone. Her dad just died and—"

"Alien."

Startled by her interruption, they both turned to look at her. Xet was staring, open-mouthed, one hand pointed squarely at Zim's chest, unknowingly mimicking the expression Dib himself had worn the first time he'd laid eyes on Zim. The alien raised an eyebrow at her; Dib grinned and threw his fists up in the air, vindicated.

"See? I _told_ you! Finally, someone who _believes_ me!"

"It's a _skin __condition_," the green 'kid' insisted. Xet closed her eyes and shook her head violently, snapping herself out of her trance. When she opened her eyes, the green kid had disappeared and Dib was pulling urgently on her arm. They stumbled through the door a beat after the bell stopped ringing.

"You're _late_, Dib." A voice that made Xet's skin crawl snapped at them. Dib kicked instantly into 'excuse' mode, and Xet had a feeling he was late on a regular basis.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Bitters. See, Xet's just starting today and—"

"_Sit __down_, Dib."

Shooting Xet an apologetic—and slightly cautioning—look, Dib skittered over to his desk and took his seat. Xet swallowed, gathering her courage, and turned to face the woman who towered over her ominously.

"Um..." she cleared her throat and tried to start again, but the teacher cut her off.

"You must be _Xet_."

Xet nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"You'll need a desk. You!" She pointed to a boy in the front row, who shrunk back, cowering in his seat. "Get your things and move to the back of the room. I can already tell," Bitters turned her creepy gaze towards Dib, and then back to Xet (who could swear she heard something akin to a rattlesnake when the woman leaned down to leer at her), "that I'm going to need to keep an _eye_ on this one." The ancient, shriveled woman narrowed her eyes. "You believe in _aliens_, girl?"

"Of course not, ma'am." No one could ever claim Xet didn't think quickly on her feet. Dib squawked from his desk.

"Wh-Wha—? Bu-But you said—"

Bitters seemed to slither bonelessly from Xet to Dib, glaring. Without the woman saying a word, Dib got the message and shut up, and Bitters returned to stand in front of her desk. "If you have something to say, _Xet_—" she seemed to have a real distaste for her new student already "—say it now. After this I don't want another _peep_ out of you! Not a _peep__!_" Xet leaned away from the teacher and turned stiffly toward the class. The students all looked extraordinarily _bored_, and no one seemed to care about her existence anyway, save for the fact that she'd come in with _Dib_. She sighed and settled on an angle for her first-impression.

"Hey, I'm Xet. My dad just died and my mom's an imbecile, so I'm living with the Membrane family for now. Yeah, I probably _am_ as weird as they are. But don't worry; I don't want to _be_ here anymore than you _want_ me to be here. Leave me alone and we won't have problems. Bother me and you'll regret it." Xet glanced up at Ms. Bitters. "I think that about covers it." Without another word, Xet walked forward purposefully and slid into her new chair, cringing at the general filth coating the desk. "Uck, remind me to bring some disinfectant tomorrow..." she muttered under her breath, shuddering.

Ms. Bitters slid into a mind-numbing lecture almost instantly, something about cannibal lemurs and doom, and Xet promptly tuned her out, doodling idly in her notebook. She finally spared a glance at her neighbor to her right: Zim. Zim was leaning on one hand and studying her unabashedly. Startled and slightly annoyed, Xet decided to return the favor, resting her head in her hand and her elbow on the desktop. Zim narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously but didn't look away.

It became a bizarre sort of staring contest, as if each was challenging the other the longer they stared. They ended up spending the entire morning watching each other, with Zim only sparing an occasional glance past her, to glare at Dib on the other side of the room. When the bell at last rang for lunch, Zim leaped from his chair, one index finger (Xet noted he only had three fingers, and though he wore gloves, they appeared to be clawed) pointed at the ceiling.

"Lunch!" he declared loudly, before disappearing out the door among a herd of students. Xet shook her head.

"Well, that was bizarre."

"Didn't I tell you? Didn't I? Huh? I _told_ you he was an alien! And no one ever believes me! Except you, you believe me, _right_?"

Xet rolled her eyes and picked up her backpack, trying to ignore the fairly frightening glare the teacher was aiming their direction—they were the last students in the classroom. "Yes, Dib, I believe you. I'd have to be a complete moron _not_ to. Now let's go eat before _she_ eats _us_."

He led the way to the cafeteria, still talking as they went through the line and paid for their lunches. "I just can't believe no one ever believes that Zim is an _alien__!_ I mean, _look _at him!" Xet didn't bother to point out that she'd just said the exact same thing, and Dib continued his rant. "It's obvious, isn't it?" He paused to cringe at the dubious shade of brown of the supposed mashed potatoes being slopped on his tray. Finally shrugging and digging his wallet out of his coat, he continued. "Why are we the only ones who _see_ it?"

Xet rolled her eyes again and took a seat near Gaz—the remainder of the table was completely empty, despite the crowding in the cafeteria. _'__Great__. __Loser __table__.'_ She sat down and eyed her lunch warily. Was it just her imagination, or had the meatloaf actually _moved_?

She looked around the room at the other children—pigs to the trough was a _nice_ way of putting it—and considered Dib's last question.

"Look around you, Dib. How can you be surprised these morons can't tell the difference between a human and a non-human? The human race is _stupid_, Dib. We probably _deserve_ to be annihilated."

Dib stared at her, open-mouthed and clearly shocked by her pessimistic statement. Gaz looked up from her Game Slave II with a barely visible smirk. "Maybe," she agreed, "but Zim's so _bad_ at annihilating." She went back to her game, occasionally stopping long enough to take a gulp from her juice box—she had _brought_ her lunch.

Xet raised an eyebrow at Dib, who was still staring at her. "Sorry I don't have the faith in mankind that you do, Dib."

He stared at her for a moment more, then seemed to understand something, and shrugged, averting his eyes. "I guess it's hard to have faith in anything when your dad's just died. I'm sorry."

Xet shrugged him off. "Don't be. I'm not."

He dropped his fork. "But—He was your _dad__!_"

She poked experimentally at her peas—who paired peas with mustard?—and finally pushed the entire tray away from herself, resolving to bring her lunch from now on. "So what? Look, Dib, my father donated half my chromosomes—that's it. He was never home, didn't give a rat's tail about my grades or anything else about my life. To be honest, not having my father around doesn't make any difference in my life, except that I'm living with you guys now. And Membrane's a better dad than mine _ever_ was."

"Our dad's not home much, either..."

"He's home a lot more than mine, even if he's still working. And he _cares_, Dib. Y'know, I fell out of a tree when I was five, broke my collarbone. My mother couldn't even call 911—the neighbors did, nearly half an hour after it happened. Mother didn't go with me in the ambulance. Neither of them visited me while I was in the hospital. I was _five_, Dib. _Five _years old, in the hospital for _two __months__, _and I never _once_ saw my parents the entire time. When they finally sent me home, Mother acted like she hadn't even realized I was gone. Probably hadn't, either. I pretty much stopped being attached to them after that. Learned how to take care of myself. We shared a house, that's all.

"_Your_ dad would visit you in the hospital. Heck, he visited _me_ in the hospital, and I was only getting _stitches_, and I'm not even _his_ kid." She pulled her sleeve up to show the black thread that held the still-healing, three-inch slash on her arm closed—an accidental 'gift' from her neurotic mother, right before the woman had been taken away in a straight jacket. "So no, Dib, I really don't care. If I got a phone call at dinner tonight telling me that Mom died in that home Membrane sent her to, I'd keep eating. 'Long as it's not Bloaty's pizza, anyway. That stuff is disgusting. No offense, Gaz."

"None taken." Gaz hadn't missed a beat of her game. With nothing better to do, Xet pulled out her own game—an ancient original Game Slave, that was nearly as old as she was—and plugged in the data stick for the original Vampire Piggy Slayer. Recognizing the signs of a gamer 'in the zone', Dib sighed and turned his attention to his lunch.


	2. Chapter 2

Having hung back to avoid the initial stampede of students heading for the skoolyard for recess, Xet finally pushed through the side doors and wandered down the stairs. Dib was right behind her, babbling about more of his paranormal experiences. She concluded that he really was _very_ relieved to have someone to talk to who was open-minded enough not to make fun of him for every comment he made. Besides, he and Gaz were the only people in the skool—counting the teachers—who had enough brain cells to carry on a decent conversation with. Still, he was starting to grate on her nerves, and she turned on him, exasperated.

"Dib! I _believe _you, okay? I'm sure Bigfoot had a good reason for using the belt sander, but for the love of _McMeaty_, I'm tired of _hearing_ about him, okay? Please, _please_, can I have a few minutes _without_ hearing about it? Just a few!"

He blinked at her, then shrugged. "Oh, okay. Hey, I'm gonna go to the biology lab and try to get a picture of those vampire gerbils in action! Wanna come?"

Xet rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. His enthusiasm was uplifting, even if it was a little irritating. "No thanks, Dib. I think I'm just gonna hang out out here, okay? You have fun."

"Okay! See ya later!" He bounded off back into the skool, and Xet stretched, enjoying the relatively fresh air of the outdoors (relative to the interior of the skool, anyway), and started to wander around the skoolyard, looping her thumbs through the straps of her backpack. These kids were as bizarre as the kids at her old skool, if not worse. One short boy with a black skull t-shirt appeared by her side as she walked, and she stopped, almost afraid to find out what he wanted. He was looking at her oddly, and finally spoke in a voice that was disturbingly deep for a sixth-grader.

"I was born with webbed fish toes, like some sorta horrible _fish__boy_. ...Wanna see?" He knelt down and started untying his shoes.

Backing away, Xet turned and walked quickly, just short of a run, pretending he hadn't said anything. She couldn't quite contain a shudder as she dodged a group of kids playing tag, and finally leaned casually against the chain-link fence near the tether ball courts.

"I hate humans..." she muttered.

A dodgeball game was developing nearby, and it seemed Zim was attempting to 'fit in' by getting in on the game. _'__This __should __be __interesting__...'_ She smirked to herself and settled in to watch. They didn't, however, appear to be playing by the rules she'd grown up with. Zim was making a brave effort to be a part of the sport, but the other kids were keeping the balls away from him, and ignoring him when one of his throws hit them. As she watched, Zim got nailed by a ball once, twice... Xet cringed as the third shot hit him in the face, so hard it knocked him head-over-heels to land hard—on his face—on the stained asphalt. _'__That__... __had __to __hurt__...'_

The final offending ball rolled to a stop at her feet.

"Hey new kid, you gonna throw that back or not?"

Xet glanced up, finding that the group of children who'd ganged up on Zim were standing in a cluster, watching her expectantly. Zim groaned and rolled over, propped up awkwardly by his backpack. Xet couldn't help but be slightly distracted by Zim wiping blood from his face—blood that was a pale, almost translucent pink and very definitely not human. No one else apparently noticed this anomaly, however.

"Hey, weirdo!"

Xet turned her gaze sharply back to the group; the girl who'd just yelled, with green hair and greener lips, was addressing her. It had never taken long for Xet to get branded. She narrowed her eyes to slits and slowly bent to pick up the ball, saying nothing.

"Hey, you're that new kid, the one who's hanging out with _Dib_, aren't you?"

Stupid question. Most of these kids were _in_ their class. Xet still didn't answer, feeling her temperature begin to rise.

"Dib's _crazy_, y'know. Why're you hanging out with that loser, anyway?"

"I'll bet she's as crazy as he is."

"I heard them talking in the cafeteria! _She_ thinks Zim's an _alien_, too!"

"She _is_ as crazy as he is!"

The children erupted into laughter, a laughter that soon spread across the playground until it seemed the entire student body was laughing at her.

"Just what this skool needs, another _freak_."

Xet clutched the dodgeball, pleased to find it was fairly new and well aired-up—much better condition than she'd expected from this run-down dump of a skool. She took a step away from the fence; the children didn't notice, as they were too busy making fun of her.

"Weirdos," a girl with purple hair commented, her gaze shifting between Zim and Xet. Zim had scooted back awkwardly from his position on the ground, apparently trying to put some space between himself and the hysterical cluster of children, but not quite clear-headed enough yet to stand on his own. Xet took a few steps forward, until she was standing next to him, and offered a hand. "You okay?" she muttered where only Zim could hear.

He eyed her hand suspiciously and didn't take it. "Oh, I'm fine! No mere rubber sphere can thwart the might of ZIM! I merely—"

She turned her narrow gaze on him for a moment and again gestured with her hand. "Look, I didn't ask for a bloody _dissertation_, moron. I just asked if you were okay. You're bleeding. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm _trying_ to help you up."

He shut up, apparently surprised at her, and swiped again at the greener-than-the-rest spot on his forehead. "I'm fine," he grumbled, narrowing his eyes at her but finally taking her hand. She hauled him to his feet, surprised at how light he was, and returned her attention to the children who were still laughing at them.

"Aw, look, the weirdos are making friends!" The green-haired girl was pointing at them. "Zim and—" She started a sing-song taunt, but broke off suddenly. "Wait, what's your name?"

"Xet," Xet answered dryly, knowing full well what was coming. She'd always had a habit of attracting this type of unwanted attention. No wonder she and Dib had hit it off so well; apparently he had the same problem. Xet wasn't disappointed, as the green-haired girl broke into sing-song again, this time following through. The other children joined in quickly, until the entire playground was repeating the words.

_"__Zim __and __Xet__, __sitting __in __a __tree__, __K__-__I__-__S__-__S__-__I__-__N__-__G__. __First __comes __love__, __then __comes __marriage__, __then __comes __the __baby __in __the __baby __carriage__!"_

Zim suddenly shouted, "WHAT IS THE _MEANING _OF _THIS_?"

"Zim, shut up, it won't help."

"How DARE you tell ZIM what to—" he broke off as the song was started over, and Xet oh-so-casually drew her hand back. "What are you...?"

"Wait for it..." she answered, holding the up index finger of her free hand. The chorus continued.

_"—__I__-__N__-__G__! __First __comes __love__, __then __comes __marriage__, __then __comes__—"_

"I DEMAND to know—!"

"_WAIT_ for it..." Xet repeated. She bounced the ball in her hand, preparing. Zim scowled at her, clearly annoyed at being left out of what was happening.

_"—__in __the __baby __carriage__!"_

Xet chuckled darkly as the song drew to a close for a second time, and Zim turned to look at her, startled to find that the grim line of the seemingly harmless human's mouth had blossomed into a feral and undeniably _evil_ grin. She had adjusted her stance and drawn her arm back all the way, looking like a deranged baseball pitcher. Zim stepped back in surprise as Xet's arm suddenly shot forward, releasing the dodge ball with precision. The ball flew across the court like a red rubber missile, striking its target with vicious accuracy. Peeyoopi—that was the green-haired child's name—was thrown backwards, too shocked even to cry out, and she in turn knocked over several more children on the way down.

"Catch." Xet casually straightened up, adjusted her backpack, and gazed down at her handiwork in satisfaction. Peeyoopi sat up, stunned, and reached a hand up to her aching face. When she pulled her hand away, it was smeared with crimson. After a moment to digest what this meant, she threw back her head and let out one of the longest, loudest wails Xet had ever heard. Xet just smirked.

Zim, meanwhile, was gaping at her. "That—You—"

As if Zim's voice had broken through her wrath, Xet suddenly came to herself, and quickly grabbed his arm and pulled. "C'mon, we better make ourselves scarce, here come the playground monitors."

Still too stunned to argue, Zim ran after her as she made her way around the corner of the building, wondering the whole time why he was doing as this HUMAN had suggested. Xet spotted Gaz sitting on the staircase and raced over to her, slinging her bag off her shoulder and pulling out her Game Slave, using one hand to load a saved game and the other to fish a novel out of her bag. She tossed the book to Zim as she sat; he caught it easily and eyed it warily.

"Sit down and pretend you've been reading the whole time," she ordered, quickly engrossing herself in her game. Zim stared at her, and she finally looked up. "Do you _want_ to end up in detention?"

"Of course not—"

"Then sit the hell down and do what I TOLD you!"

She grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward the stairs; he half-stumbled onto them and sat next to her.

"Nice shot," Gaz commented, never looking up from her game, but smirking all the same.

"Thanks." Xet glanced up at her and grinned, not bothering to puzzle out how Gaz had seen the altercation from her place on this side of the playground. She looked down just as one of the monitors led a sobbing Peeyoopi to the stairs. Judging by the amount of blood, her nose had been broken.

Peeyoopi stopped and pointed at Xet, screeching, "SHE DID IT! _SHE __DID __IT__!_"

Xet looked up. The monitor looked down at her accusingly, and as if summoned from the very depths of Hell, Ms. Bitters melted out of the shadows to glare down at her.

"Is this true, _Xet_?"

Xet was the picture of innocence as she answered, "I'm afraid I don't know what she's talking about, Ms. Bitters. I've been playing my game ever since lunch. Eh, Gaz?"

"Yep," Gaz muttered, taking her cue like a pro. "Been here since we came out."

Xet resisted the temptation to grin victoriously—up until that point, she really hadn't had any idea if Gaz would cover for her or not, but the younger girl had come through. She'd have to find a way to return the favor, but at the moment...

"See, Ms. Bitters? I _did_ see her and some of the others picking on Zim, though, when I looked up a few minutes ago. Guess that's why he came over here."

Bitters glared at her for a moment, then at Zim (who promptly returned his gaze to 'his' book), then at Peeyoopi. Apparently deciding the battle was more effort than the injured student was worth, Bitters slithered up the stairs, Peeyoopi in tow. For several long moments, the only movement from the staircase was the thumbs of the girls as they played their games. Finally, Xet let out a breath, pausing her game and leaning back against the brick railing.

"I can't believe I did that. Sheesh, I can't believe I _got __away_ with it!"

"She deserved it," Zim stated succinctly, returning her book and getting to his feet. "As entertaining as this has been, Xethuman, I have work to do."

"At recess?" She raised an eyebrow, choosing to ignore the bizarre nickname for the moment. "Oh, alien take over the world kinda stuff. Gotcha."

"Don't be ridiculous! I merely have... homework, to finish, that's all!"

Xet shrugged and rolled her eyes, returning to her game. "Whatever. Good luck."


	3. Chapter 3

The weather was miserably hot, even this late in the day. Zim was out, walking GIR to keep up appearances.

He nearly fell on his face at the sound.

Suddenly all was squealing tires, a thud and sickening _crunch_. Then squealing tires again, fading into the distance. It had come from across the alley; the opposite street from his cul-de-sac. He debated investigating, but his inborn curiosity won out. He ran toward the sound, using his pak legs to scale the fences in his way. By the time he was in view of the street again, he was running on his own two feet.

There was somebody lying in the middle of the street. He could smell the human blood from where he stood on the sidewalk. The figure was no taller than himself—a human child. Slowly, cautiously, he approached.

There was a growing pool of stinking crimson blood. The child's head was turned away from him. Curious, he reached out with one gloved hand and turned the child's head toward him—and something in his squidly-spooch turned to ice. He knew this child. Almost—_almost—liked_ this child.

"Xethuman?"

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a horrible gurgling noise. She coughed suddenly, blood spraying from her mouth and into his face. He recoiled, swiping at his face frantically.

"..._Zim_...?" He froze, blinking down at her at the weak sound. Apparently the cough had cleared her vocal chords, though from the looks of her, he doubted it would be for long. She seemed to be bleeding from _everywhere_, and surely the internal damage was worse. He sighed.

"Yes, Xet." She didn't respond, her remaining strength focused on pulling air into broken lungs. _'Moving her would probably kill her... then again leaving her here certainly will.' _

He growled at himself. He wasn't a human paramedic, what did he care?

Then again... this could be an opportunity. She was utterly helpless. He could easily get her to his base, into his labs. If he kept her alive, he'd have a perfect specimen to study as she healed. But he couldn't leave her here for long; surely someone had called emergency services by now. Ugh, and he'd just washed this tunic...

He slid his gloved arms under her and picked her up. Perhaps it was the blood loss, but she was lighter than she looked. Glancing around—he could see no one watching him, humans were so oblivious—he started back through the yard he'd come through, again using his pak legs to get past the fences. He was in his house and in an elevator down to the labs without anyone apparently noticing him.

By now, Xet was making pathetic wet sucking noises as she tried to pull in oxygen. Zim laid her out on a table, soon placing a mask over her nose and mouth—oxygen would help for the moment, until he could get the bleeding under control. Speaking of which... she was bleeding out. He took a sample of her blood and put it in the computer almost violently. "COMPUTER!" he barked. "Synthesize a suitable replacement for her blood!"

"_Synthesizing,_" the computer replied.

Zim turned around and surveyed the girl before him. She was no longer conscious. Probably just as well. Producing shears from his pak, he began cutting away her clothes. Her body was turning all manner of colors beneath the fabric. Only now did he notice the protruding broken rib, which had him rubbing his own ribcage in unwanted sympathetic pains. A quick scan showed so many broken bones and injured organs it was a wonder she hadn't been killed instantly.

It was going to take hours to get her stabilized, let alone to a state where she could begin healing. Good thing Irkens didn't need to sleep. He popped his neck, shrugged his shoulders to loosen his muscles, and got to work.

* * *

With no concern for scars, he'd split her from collarbone to groin in order to get to the organs that needed repair. Humans had entirely too _many_ organs in his opinion. So much flesh had been destroyed that he'd had to construct artificial to bridge the gap, and a lot of it. Her lungs were so badly damaged he'd had to replace them entirely with fully artificial ones. Many of her bones had been altogether shattered; he'd had to construct replacements for them, too, never-mind splicing-material for the those less badly damaged.

The girl was conscious for longer and longer periods, but still could barely move—just enough that he'd had to restrain her when he worked. She could, however, scream, and he'd finally put in an intravenous sedative, just to save his aching head.

When he wasn't working, he had her suspended in a medical tank, where she could heal more easily. It had startled the hell out of him the first time he'd walked in to find her staring out of the tank at him. Still, it meant his hard work was paying off; he'd learned a very great deal hands-on thanks to her. Perhaps she'd recover enough to be of use as a slave; she certainly owed him and he was sure he could lord that over her rather effectively.

Eventually she was well enough to start talking again. Most of the time he ignored her. She was usually complaining about either pain, or boredom, or both.. To which he'd simply up her sedative level until she passed out again. She was finally learning to keep her noise-tube _shut _if she wanted to stay conscious, and that suited him fine. He didn't particularly have much to discuss with her but having her conscious did occasionally make some of his work easier.

* * *

"Zim."

He ignored her, glaring at his readouts. It had to be the twentieth time today she'd tried to talk to him.

"_Zim._"

Not answering, he checked the same patch of skin for the tenth time today.

"Goddammit, would you stop ignoring me?" she snapped. This was more than she'd spoken since he'd found her broken in the street, and now he found himself staring at her in surprise. She continued. "I need to piss." She was angry, and thus more vulgar than necessary for a barely-twelve-year-old.

He rolled his eyes and went back to his work. "The _computer_ is taking care of _that_, or did you think I'd been taking your body to the waste disposal every few hours since getting you here? Now _shut up_, I'm _busy_. Unless you _want_ me to sedate you yet AGAIN?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. She was quite done with being silent, thank you very much. "Well then run a diagnostic or something, idiot. _Something_ isn't right."

He looked at her again, for a long time. Finally he growled. "_Fine. _But the computer would have told me by now if something was wrong." He shoved off the floor with his feet, sending his floating lab chair down to the other end of the table. Barely a minute later he spoke again.

"...Oh. Oops."

She lifted her head—the only part of her that wasn't strapped down. "_'Oops'_? _What_ 'oops'?"

"Nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing if you—ow! Dammit don't pull so hard on that! Fuck, you're a shitty doctor."

"I'm not a _doctor_," he glared down at her. "I'm a _scientist_. There's a _difference._"

"Then you're a shitty _scientist."_

Now he actually looked angry. "_INSOLENT GIRL!_"he screeched. "If it weren't for _ZIM_ you wouldn't be _alive_ right now!"

That seemed to shut her up, Zim noted with pleasure. Stupid girl.

Then she muttered, "Still need to go." Zim swore in what she presumed was Irken, but didn't look at her.

"I'm _working_ on it. _Now_ _shut_ _UP!_"

* * *

Eventually Zim discovered he'd been overdosing her on sedatives, and had to back off putting her out every time she annoyed him lest he outright kill his subject.

"Zim."

"What _now_?"

"I'm hungry."

"Too bad."

"But—"

"You are getting nutrition through the _tubes_, stupid girl. Your _belly_ is not important."

She sighed loudly. "M'bored." She was still strapped to the table, as usual when she wasn't in the tank.

"I couldn't give less of a pig-monkey shit." His mastery of human language was improving. Mostly in the swearing department, but it was something.

She was quiet for a while. Then:

"How's things... yannow... coming?"

If looks could kill, the monitor in front of his eyes would have melted. "Better than yesterday, which was better than the day before _that_. The same as _every time you ask!_"

"...You're a cunt, you know that."

Zim banged his head on his console so hard he had a migraine the rest of the day.

* * *

"Zim."

"_WHAT_?" Zim snarled. "What the _hell_ do you want _now_?"

"Thought you'd like to know your wig's on crooked."

He'd just come home from a quick errand, having left her on the table out of convenience. If his wig had been crooked... He glanced in a nearby piece of reflective metal.

His wig was fine.

She laughed, and he started threatening her and her parentage back to the stone age, all in Irken.

* * *

"Zim."

"_What_."

"Have I told you today that you're a cunt?"

"..._I hate you so much._"


	4. Chapter 4

"Stand up, Xet-slave."

She stared at him as the restraints popped loose and disappeared into the table. He'd already removed the other connections and she'd been wondering what he was up to. But stand? Just like that? She'd been on this table or in a goddamn tank for ages. How was she supposed to just—wait, what? She sat up all at once, instantly regretting the pain, but still sputtering, "_W-What_ did you just call me?"

Zim smirked at her. "You heard me, stupid girl. Now stand up so I can better assess your strength. _Slave_."

She slid her legs over the edge of the table. "You aren't serious."

He grinned nastily. "Zim is always serious."

She slid down from the table, her legs wobbling but, surprisingly enough, holding her up.

"I suppose asking for clothes would be just as useless as asking for a blanket."

"Walk to the end of the lab and back," he ordered, ignoring her.

She sighed and did as he said, trying not to show how much it hurt. Sharp pains everywhere, she limped, wobbled, but made it to the far end of the lab, panting, trying not to cry.

"And _back,_" he reiterated.

She turned around, made it a few more steps, then—

"Aaah!" She fell to her knees, clutching her chest. It hurt to breathe with the exertion. Tears escaped her eyes to flow down her cheeks; Zim approached, pulling her roughly to her feet with one gloved hand. She started to wheeze, the pain fast becoming too much. "_Z-Zim—_" The lab was spinning.

Zim looked her over in disapproval before pulling her back toward the table. She stumbled, barely able to keep her feet under her even with his support.

Once she was back on the table, he started a scan, frowning. "It appears your artificial lungs aren't ready for such work."

"A-arti..." She couldn't finish the word, as he was placing the familiar oxygen mask over her face. The wheezing slowly lessened, the pain subsiding.

Artificial? She knew Zim had saved her life but she knew so little of the details thanks to him refusing to talk to her most of the time. Were her real, human lungs actually gone? Did she have... Irken... lungs? No, that couldn't be right, Dib had told her about the squeedly-spooch thing. So what, like machines? Or what?

Of course she couldn't ask any of her questions since she was pretty busy just breathing. When her lungs had caught up with her, she pulled the mask away herself. Before she could speak, though, Zim did.

"Be still, stupid girl." It had become a nickname.

"I can't. I'm bored. I've been laying here," she lifted her head, motioning to the bank of vertical containment tanks she could just see in the next room, "or stuck in there for... how long has it been, exactly?"

"Three and a half of your _filthy_ Earth months," Zim answered, turning around to face her.

She paled, dropping her head back on the table.

"I missed the rest of sixth grade," she muttered, "and most of summer."

"_Skool_? You were _dead_," he pointed out, leaning back on a console. "Zim has fixed you. And you are _worried_ about _skool_?"

"I'm a _kid_. Worrying about skool is sort of in my job description. Besides, I don't want to be held back. Sometime they do that if you miss too much." Ouch, that was a little too much talking just yet, and she wheezed, taking several gulps of oxygen from the mask.

"You needn't worry about _skool_ anymore."

"Why, 'cause I'm a _slave_ now?" She sat up, glaring, not quite hiding the pain it caused her. "Hasn't anyone looked for me? At least Dib?"

"Dib has no reason to think you are _here_. _I _didn't miss any skool."

She thought about that. It had been a Friday night when the accident happened. So he'd had the whole weekend to get her stable enough to leave her alone for a few hours.

"Then what _does_ he think?"

"The humans seem to think you 'ran away from home'."

"Great. Just great. After all Professor Membrane has done for me, he thinks I bailed."

He smirked at her. "Suits me."

"Yeah, the whole slave thing. I have two choice words for that. 'Fuck,' and 'you'."

His smirk turned to a glare. "You _owe_ me," he pointed out. "I gave you a new life. You belong to _ZIM_, now."

"I didn't ask for you to do this. I didn't _ask_ for all this! You could have let me die!"

"Nevertheless, it is how things are. Deal with it, worm-baby."

She didn't know what else to say, so she stayed silent.

"I'll be working to get your lungs working more efficiently. In the meantime, I suppose I need to attend your physical needs. _Stupid humans,_ needing to eat and—_ugh_—dispose of their _waste_ in such a _disgusting_ way."

"I'm sitting right here, asshole."

"You," he started, approaching her, rising up on pak legs to leer down at her, "are going to learn to address me _properly_."

She glared right back. "What, 'cunt' isn't good enough?"

He hissed, and would have struck at her if he hadn't worked so hard to get her to this point of health. "You will call ZIM _master!_"

She snorted, trying to look tough, though being smaller than the already diminutive alien, never mind naked and unable to walk more than a couple of feet made if very hard to feel tough. "You wish."

"I can always restrain you again. Or better yet, I can just kill you. I've learned plenty and there's no one who would miss you now."

Did he seriously just threaten to _kill_ her? Her expression must have reflected the question, because when Zim spoke next, he was quite sure of himself, aiming one pak leg at the middle of her forehead.

"Call me '_master_', or I end you. I think that's fair," he growled darkly.

She swallowed hard. "I-I..."

"It wouldn't take much to crush this," he tapped her forehead sharply, leaving a small puncture and giving her a headache on top of everything else. "So say it."

She hugged herself, trying to hold back tears. "I... I _can't_..."

"You _want_ to die?"

"N-No! But—"

"Last chance, _Xet._"

She looked at him through a wash of tears, then looked down at herself. Covered in scars. Barely able to breathe, let alone walk. '_Dead,'_ she thought. _'They all probably think I'm dead.'_ What difference did it make now?

"...master," she muttered, barely audible even to his antennae.

"What was that?" he snapped. She repeated herself.

"Master. All right? _Master!_" She lay down, curling up on the table, sobbing.

Zim's antennae drooped just barely; his nasty expression dropping slightly. He hadn't quite expected _this_. She was crying so hard she almost immediately couldn't breathe, and scrabbled frantically for the oxygen mask that was just out of her reach. With a growling sigh, he dropped from his pak legs, retrieved the mask himself, and placed it over her face.

"Stop _crying_, stupid girl! You're going to kill _yourself_ at this rate."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, only to start crying all over again, frantically trying to suck down oxygen as she did. He sighed, not even looking as he reached over with a pak arm to retrieve the waiting hypodermic of sedative. He injected her without bothering to warn her; she tensed at the needle, then all at once relaxed, unconscious, her breathing finally slowing.

It would be the last time he'd see her cry for a very long time.

* * *

_[Author's Note: I know, I know, short chapter is short. I promise they get longer again eventually. :P]_


	5. Chapter 5

It had taken a lot of pestering, and taking more than a few punishments, but by the time the start of seventh grade came around a month later, she'd worn him down. Zim had agreed, grudgingly, to allow her to go back to skool. Of course, knowing the questions this would arise, he also allowed her to _technically _go back to living with the Membranes, with the agreement she'd still spend her all her free time at Zim's base, assisting him in whatever he needed help with.

Membrane had hardly registered her return; he'd in fact barely noticed her missing. That had hurt a little.

Gaz welcomed her back with only mild surprise, figuring the other girl had gotten tired of being on the street.

Dib, of course, was all questions. Especially when he caught her talking to Zim in the hallway between classes. Between _every_ class. She'd barely look at the alien, nodding to whatever he'd say, usually without comment.

Submissive.

It wasn't like her.

Once he swore he saw a hypodermic: Zim injecting something into Xet's ribs, to which the human girl had noticeably relaxed, murmuring a thank-you. Of course no one _else_ noticed.

Xet refused to answer Dib's questions.

By the time he saw her walking home with Zim the first day back—behind him, not beside him—he couldn't take it anymore. He followed them at a distance, and sure enough, they reached Zim's base and went inside.

Zim was willingly letting a _human_ into his base.

Dib was sure he knew where she'd been all those months, now, though he didn't know why. Xet had displayed a bit of a limp and seemed to get winded too easily, and had managed to produce a note to get out of gym that he was sure hadn't actually come from his father. She wore pants and long sleeves even in the hottest August weather when before she'd normally worn short-sleeve t-shirts even in cold weather. She was hiding something.

He wanted to know what that miserable alien had done to her, and why. Xet had always been friendly to Zim, had even defended him at times. Why would he hurt _her_ of all people?

He pulled out his long-range listening device and aimed it at the house.

Silence, save for the TV that GIR was presumably watching. Which meant they must be down in the labs. Dib sighed, defeated for now. He headed home.

Xet appeared at the Membrane house just in time for dinner, clearly having had trouble walking home and in obvious pain. She didn't complain, and wouldn't explain. She simply ate and went upstairs to her room. Dib followed, listening outside the door.

"Zim, it's late and I'm very tired. You said I could come home for dinner and sleep."

"I know full well of your species' _weakness_ for sleep, Xet-slave. I'm merely reminding you to get here before skool."

Dib blanched. 'Xet-_slave_'? He'd made her his _slave_? By the time he'd digested this information, the transmission had evidently been cut. There was the sound of shuffling cloth, bed springs creaking, then silence. She'd gone to bed.

Dib crept to his own room, trying to formulate a plan.

Zim was going to pay for hurting her.

* * *

In the end, he'd gone to skool without a plan. Xet had sneaked out long before he'd even woken up. It hadn't mattered much. He'd spotted them entering an empty classroom right as their class had been let out for lunch. Sneaking up silently, he watched through the window in the door, wincing as Zim began shouting.

"You were late this morning, and now you think you can just run off to lunch? We have _work_, Xet!"

"I _told_ you, my alarm didn't go off." Xet was staring resolutely at her shoes, just taking it.

Zim snatched her around the throat, pinning her to the blackboard, the chalk ledge digging into her back. "Are you talking _back_ to _ZIM_?"

She gagged, clinging to his arms. "N-No, master!" she rasped, "I just—"

"We had a DEAL, _Xet-slave_! If I have to embed an alarm in your SKULL you are GOING to arrive on _time_ from _now_ _on! _Or you _will_ 'disappear' again. _UNDERSTAND_?"

Dib didn't remember entering the room, but suddenly there he was, grabbing Zim by a shoulder, punching the startled alien with all his might. Zim released Xet, falling to the floor with a yelp. Dib moved to strike again and only had time to process a furious expression before something hit _his_ face, and he stumbled back into the door, stunned. Raising a hand to his jaw, he gaped at his attacker.

Xet stood between him and Zim, holding her aching hand, seething. In fact, she was starting to wheeze, and as Zim stood, her expression started to pinch from the effort of breathing. Still, she managed to rasp out, "_Don't touch him. Don't,_" she gasped, going from holding her hand to holding her chest, "ever" gasp "_touch him._"

Dib stared. "But he—he was—"

Zim smirked at him, licking pink Irken blood from his busted lip. "You heard her. Don't _touch_ me, _Dib_." Then his attention turned to Xet, who was pawing at his arm to get his attention, unable to pull in enough air. Zim looked at her with mild concern. "_Again_?" She couldn't speak, just nodded frantically. Zim was already retrieving some sort of device from his pak, putting the attached mask over her face and guiding her to a chair.

"Wha...?" Dib's question was more of a general one, but Zim answered distractedly anyway.

"Oxygen." He held the mask in place until she could hold it herself.

Dib just watched, confused. Despite the earlier violence, now Zim was being almost... protective. And why had Xet protected _him_ when he'd been hurting her?

Boy, his jaw hurt. She didn't look it, as small as she was, but _damn_, Xet had a mean right hook.

"I... I don't understand," he finally admitted. "What'd you _do_ to her, you alien asshole?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to _know_," Zim mocked. "It's none of your business, _human_."

"You're hurting her." he pointed out. "That _makes_ it my business."

Xet finally pulled the mask from her face. "I can take care of myself, Dib."

"But—"

She rose unsteadily to her feet, glaring. "Back _off_, Dib!"

Zim merely stood there, watching the exchange with unconcealed glee.

"But Xet, he was—"

"_I know what he was doing!_" she snapped, immediately placing the mask back over her face. She was silent for a long moment as she caught her breath. "Dib, just... trust me. This is for the best."

"But—"

"_Dib._" She wasn't even glaring anymore. "I... Zim, he..." she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know what I'm doing, okay?"

But Dib didn't understand. Couldn't. _"Xet..."_

"Leave us alone, Dib."

Zim leered. "Yeah, leave us alone, _Dib._"

Dib pulled the door open and backed through it. "Don't worry Xet, whatever he's doing to you, I'll figure it out. I'll save you."

"I don't need saving," she responded, just as the door closed.

With Dib gone, Zim turned to her, looking her over in approval. "Very good, Xet. You handled that better than I expected you to. Just for that, we'll go to lunch now."

She didn't look at him, just gathered her bag and followed him to the door, muttering:

"Yes, master."

* * *

_[I'm not one for author's notes, really, but this time I felt I needed to say something. So. I know, I know, I know, this chapter is even shorter than the last one. I promise they'll improve. I'm just trying to bridge the gap right now from what's published to what I already have written. I skipped over some stuff so now I'm having to try to write it in and it's trickier than I expected. But I promise the chapters will get longer again. Ow! Don't hit me. :( _

_**Edit**: Disregard my earlier fuss about Xet's appearance. I've pretty much got it handled now. I'd forgotten how fairly easy IZ art style can be when you sit down and really put your mind to it. So, if you're interested in what Xet looks like, please check my profile under STUFF! - New Kid-NOTES for a link to a drawing of her. :)  
_

_**Edit (again):** She's now on the cover! :D  
_


	6. Chapter 6

"On the table," Zim ordered.

Xet sighed. "Again?" He just pointed at the all-too-familiar operating table, glaring at her. She hopped up onto it, grateful he'd at least not made her strip this time. "Can I at least ask what for?"

"Brain probing."

She nearly fell off the table. "Say what." It was more of a statement than a question.

"You heard me."

"But—But—"

"I'm not opening up your _skull_, if that's what you're worried about. Besides, such a scar would be difficult to hide."

"Then how...?"

He held up a device that ended in what was unmistakably a probe. She gulped as he explained. "This works _through_ your skull, and that filthy mane of yours."

"Hey, my hair's not dirty! I showered this morning, thank you _very_ much."

"They why is it so matted?"

She stared at him a moment. "Matted... Zim, they're dreadlocks. They're supposed to look like this."

"Like a dog-beast that's never been brushed?" He pointed at the table again, and she laid down, pouting.

"You thought all this time that my hair was just _dirty_? And it happens to take a lot of work to get them to look right!"

"So you _are_ trying to look like a dog-beast."

She let out a frustrated growl despite knowing he was baiting her on purpose. "You know, you may be my 'master,' but you're still a cunt."

She wasn't at all surprised by the backhand that won her.

"Now be still," he ordered. "And relax."

"Easy for you to say," she mumbled, rubbing her aching cheek. Zim growled under his breath but said nothing as he turned on the probe. With the computer scanning continuously, he touched the tip here and there on her scalp, nodding to himself.

About a half an hour in, Xet had nearly fallen asleep from boredom. Then, without warning, she gasped, loudly, eyes wide and body rigid, her face turning bright red. Zim stared at her as she shouted in evident distress:

"STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW!" He pulled the probe back, and she shivered, unable to look at him. "Z-Zim, on my p-planet, we... we would call that a 'no-no' spot. A-As in, 'no touchy.'"

Slowly, Zim smirked, making a note on the screen floating over her head. "Subject's cerebral pleasure center, check."

She scowled. "You're an ass."

"I can always probe you there again," he threatened darkly.

"N-NO!"

"Then would you care to rephrase that last sentence?"

She sighed heavily. "Sorry. _Master_," she pinned on when he glared.

It was about five minutes more before Xet was all-too-aware of the probe again. Although this time, she arched her back, screaming as white-hot agony shot through her nervous system. Zim pulled the probe away again, and she slumped to the table, panting.

"Subject's cerebral _pain_ center, check."

"N-No m-more..." Xet groaned, shaking from the shock.

"Now that I've confirmed where it is, I don't need to probe there again. Unless you _misbehave_," he added pointedly, waving the probe before her wide eyes.

"N-No... m'good..." She struggled to convey that she was all-too-willing to behave after that little incident. Zim nodded his apparent approval before moving on.

An hour later, he shook her roughly awake. "I'm done. You can go 'home.'" She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and checking her watch. It was barely 4:30.

"You're letting me off early?"

"I have some work to do that doesn't involve help, so yes. Now _go_ before I change my mind." He waved a hand at her distractedly.

She slid down from the table with a yawn and a stretch. "'K. No complaint from me."

If it weren't for her damnable lungs, she would have run all the way to the Membrane house. As it was, she could only walk a little faster than usual, occasionally taking surreptitious gulps of oxygen from the portable mask, which Zim had finally just given her to keep handy. She needed it less and less, but still, she needed it enough that constantly getting it for her had gotten on his nerves.

In the two weeks since skool had started back up, Xet's routine had gone pretty much the same every day: wake up, shower, head to Zim's base, work/experiments, go to skool, back to Zim's, more work/experiments, then back to the Membrane house for dinner and, most of the time because she was too tired for anything else, straight to bed after.

This was the first free time she'd had in ages, and she didn't want to waste it. Besides, if the tracking information was correct, her package should have arrived today.

It was confirmed almost as soon as she'd walked in the door. Gaz looked up from her place on the couch, briefly showing surprise at the other girl being home so early. Then she shrugged and pointed at the table beneath the TV before going back to her game. "Package."

Xet almost jumped for joy. "Thanks Gaz!" She grabbed the package and ran for the stairs, having to stop to sit halfway up, nearly blacking out from the sudden exertion and grabbing the mask. Several minutes later, she cautiously stood and made it the rest of the way up the stairs and to her bedroom. She dropped her bag by the door, collected a battered portable music player from the computer desk, and crossed to her bed, tearing into the package. Once the prized tool was in her hands, she picked up the music player, and set to work.

* * *

"What are you _wearing_?" Zim asked, pointing at her head.

"Huh? Oh! Sorry," Xet pulled the headphones off her head. Zim was staring at her. "...Yes?" she asked slowly.

"I _asked _you what you were wearing."

"Oh. Sorry, I couldn't hear you. They're headphones. Yannow, for music? They _do_ have music on your planet, right?"

Zim rolled his eyes. "Of course we have music. There's hardly a culture that doesn't. Where did you get that?"

"Oh, I've had this player forever, the headphones too. But the player got messed up right before I moved in with the Membranes and I couldn't fix it. I finally got the right tool to get the case open, so I fixed it last night. Spliced the headphone wire again, too, since the dumb thing likes breaking so much. Voila!" She held up the battered player and headphones to demonstrate; sure enough the device was lit and playing, music drifting to Zim's antennae.

"Vwa-what?"

She grinned, her music having put her in a good mood. "Voila. Just something humans say to mean like, 'look at this'!"

He snatched the little blue player from her, ignoring her resultant frown. "This thing looks ancient. Why bother fixing it? Why not get a new one?"

She shrugged. "Well, it's got my music on it. I didn't want to try to find it all again. Besides, I feel kinda weird spending the money Membrane gives me on anything I don't strictly _need_. Bad enough I bought the tool to fix the thing."

He stared at the device in his hand, turning it this way and that. He started at the capacity stamped on the back. "Four _giga_bytes? That's _pathetic!_"

Her frown deepened. "Yeah, well, ten years ago it was the best. Not my fault I had to get it used."

"The _best?_ You humans are _so_ primitive! How can you even _call_ that a music collection?"

Her frown was fast developing into a glare, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "_Hey_, I don't insult _your_ tech."

"Of _course_ not, it's vastly superior to your own."

She sighed, though it was closer to a growl, as she attempted to take back the player. "Look, it's all I have and I happen to like my music, okay? I'm really happy to have it back so either give it back or have a _really_ grouchy slave, your choice."

He glared at her. "Are you _threatening_ ZIM?"

"Just stating the facts," she grumbled, though she no longer dared to look him in the eye.

"Well then, _take_ the stupid thing," he growled impatiently. She looked up to find him holding the player out to her. She took it back gratefully, turning it off for the time being and stowing it in her bag. "And get on the table," he continued. "I have more probing to do."

"I thought you were done with that yesterday!"

"Don't argue! I have _follow-up_ to my findings from yesterday."

She sighed, and did as told.

* * *

_[Xet is quite the audiophile, and gets a kick out of creating music playlists based on the people in her life. If you're interested, you can listen to some of her playlists on my 8tracks account! I can't remember if you need an account to listen, but it's simple enough to sign up if you do. There are four playlists at this point: Zim, Dib, Gaz, and Xet herself. Each is linked in my profile (at the bottom) for your listening pleasure. :) Thanks for reading another chapter!]_


	7. Chapter 7

"Aren't you late for... whatever it is you do with Zim in the mornings?" Gaz sat on the couch, playing her ever-present Gameslave. Xet, meanwhile, fell onto the other end of the couch, curling up on her side, her arms around her middle. She groaned.

"Not going. Left a message with GIR. Feels like my insides are trying to become _outsides_."

Gaz snorted. "Got your period, huh?"

"Is it that obvious?"

The other girl snickered. "What about skool?"

"Fuck skool," Xet moaned, rolling over to face the back of the couch. "I'm just gonna lay here until I expire."

"Okay," Gaz agreed, a little too readily. She got up, grabbing her bookbag and yelling up the stairs. "DIB! COME ON!"

Dib ran down the stairs, still pulling his shirt over his head, and came up short at the sight of Xet curled into a ball on their couch. Xet was _never_ home this late in the morning. "Uh..."

"Leave her alone, we're gonna be late," Gaz complained, walking out the door. Dib shrugged and followed.

"Bye, Xet."

Xet just groaned. After they left, she dozed for a while, enjoying the first chance to sleep later than four a.m. in weeks, but was suddenly wakened by a pounding on the front door. Jumping up, she ran to the door reflexively, not stopping to think who could be on the other side as she tore it open.

"Man, this better be import—"

Zim stood before her, the look on his face a frightening one. "You weren't at the base this morning," he observed, his voice a low gravelly tone that set her nerves on edge.

"I-I-I—" she stammered.

He came toward her, into the house; Xet backed up until she fell onto her back on the coffee table. "I've warned you in the past to be on time," Zim noted darkly.

"I-I left a m-mess—" she broke off in a yelp as his pak legs shot out, sharp points pinning her shoulders to the table as he glowered down at her. "Zim, wait!" she implored, but that was her most recent mistake.

"_What_ did you just call me?" Her mouth worked silently as she tried to come up with a response. He dug the points of his pak legs into her shoulders until she was sure she was bleeding. "I thought you knew better by now. When we're in private, you call me _master!_"

"I-I'm sorry, m-mast—"

"And if you _continue_ being _disobedient_, I'll extend that to _public_, too. _Including_ skool."

"I'm sorry! Master, I'm _sorry!_" She was starting to wheeze in panic; she couldn't imagine the humiliation of calling him 'master' in front of her classmates and teachers. She kicked her legs futilely in pain; the points of his pak legs had by now dug quite deep into her shoulders. She could feel the blood-soaked fabric of her shirt sticking to her skin.

"You'll stay late tonight," he said coldly, uncaring of her struggle, digging the legs deeper. "And every night from now on until I've decided you've learned your _lesson_."

Her face screwed up with pain, she could only agree, hating herself, her weakness. "Yes, master!"

Finally accepting her submission, he removed the metal spikes from the holes in her shoulders, watching with satisfaction as she squirmed. His pak legs folded away, Zim stepped closer to her as she struggled to sit up, her arms not quite obeying her commands. He grabbed her by her collar and pulled her into a sitting position on the coffee table.

"Take your shirt off," he ordered calmly, after she'd had a few moments to recover her breathing. Again she struggled; there was no one here to see her, but moving her arms was quite painful and she couldn't get them to go where she needed them to to get rid of the bloodied top. Finally she slumped, defeated, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Zim frowned.

"In that case I guess I'll be cutting it off. It's ruined anyway," he pointed out when she looked up at him unhappily. Producing shears from his pak, he quickly cut away the fabric so he could get at her wounds. "Be still," he ordered. She wasn't moving anyway. "Do you have disinfectant here?"

She nodded at the staircase. "Upstairs bathroom. Medicine cabinet."

Normally he'd send her to get it, but as her arms weren't working properly, he decided to do it himself. It was easy enough to find, once he'd figured out which cabinet was for medicinal purposes. Returning with the bottle, he tore the clean parts of her shirt into rags, applying the disinfectant to her wounds with it. She hissed and whimpered, but said nothing. Finally he took the ever-present roll of bandages from his pak, carefully and tidily tying off each punctured shoulder.

"There. Best I can do for now, and anyway maybe the _pain_ will remind you of our little _conversation_ here."

She nodded dully, not even bothering to try to explain her excuse for not being there today, though her innards still ached terribly. "Yes, master."

"Go get a shirt. We're late for skool."

"But—"

"_Now_, Xet-slave!"

With a moan, she rose and forced herself up the stairs. She returned a short while later, having managed to struggle into a new shirt, her bookbag over her shoulder. Carrying it was painful but there wasn't much she could do about it if Zim had decided they were going to skool after all.

She followed Zim as they walked, watching her boots thud on the sidewalk. She didn't want to look around. She'd just been reminded all too well of the fact that she was only pretending to be a part of this world; despite the freedoms he'd allowed, she _was_ still his slave.

They walked into the skool; the hallways were empty, first period nearly over by now.

"We might as well wait for second period to begin," she commented quietly. Zim agreed with a nod, leading her to the room their second class was in. She still wasn't sure how he'd done it, hacked the skool computers apparently, but she couldn't even get away from Zim during skool; they shared every class.

They stood outside the room until the bell rang, staying out of way of the herd of children leaving for their next class. Then they entered, and Xet took her place at her desk—next to Zim's, of course.

With her arms around her middle and her forehead down on the cool surface of the desk, she closed her eyes and tried to remember what it was like to be free.

* * *

"Zim, please leave me alone."

"What is your _problem _today, anyway? You're usually so much more agreeable."

"I just don't feel good, okay?" She glared at the Irken. "Would you get off my _case_?"

"_Watch_ your _tone_," he warned.

"Fuck off!" she snapped, in too much pain and far too hormonal to think before speaking. She regretted it quickly enough; Zim grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, slamming her into the nearest locker with a resounding _bang_. Xet flinched, her whole body screaming from the force of hitting the metal.

Instantly they drew a crowd, people stopping to stare open-mouthed at the violent display from the normally 'harmless'—if a little nuts—foreign kid. Picking on the one kid in the entire grade who was smaller than himself.

"I _warned_ you, _Xet._"

"Zim—"

"_Don't_ call me that! _You_ don't get to call me that. Even _here_."

She paled. No no no no...

"_Zim, please_..." she whispered, not wanting the others to hear her beg.

"No, _not_ Zim. Not to _you_. Not anymore."

She closed her eyes. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. _Everyone_ was watching.

"You _know_ what to call me, now, _Xet_. Let's _hear_ it."

She grit her teeth, refusing to answer.

"Come _on_, Xet. _Out_ with it." He had raised his voice. He knew he had an audience, was enjoying her humiliation, the power he had over her. When she still refused to answer, he lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Just remember, I know _exactly_ where to _probe_ to _punish_ you. You're already racking up the seconds."

Just thinking about that pain was enough to make her shiver. She stared down at her boots, forcing it out too quietly for anyone else to hear.

"..._Master_."

Just trying to get to class, Dib finally made his way to the front of the crowd, his jaw dropping at the sight of Xet pinned against the lockers by Zim. Knowing how to read lips was a talent he'd worked hard on, and despite not being able to hear her, he knew exactly what she'd said, even before Zim forced her to repeat it. His heart dropped.

"M-Master," she muttered bitterly, and this time the kids nearest to them could make it out. One by one, the giggles started to sound, as the gossip spread like fire from their circle to both ends of the hallway. Soon it was laughter, raucous, loud and cruel, swiftly joined by jokes from preteens whose minds were firmly lodged in the gutter. 'Master,' after all, had more than one connotation, whether Zim was entirely aware of it or not.

The alien released her. She slumped against the locker, eyes closed, shame radiating off her in nearly tangible waves.

Dib forced his way toward her past the jeering crowd. "Xet? Xet, you okay?" Ignoring Zim, who was now grinning unpleasantly, obviously pleased with himself, Dib placed a hand on the girl's arm. She suddenly came alive, snatching her arm away from him.

"Don't touch me!" She glowered. "Just leave me _alone_, Dib." She stomped past him, past Zim and shoved violently through the people in her way. People who were too busy laughing at her to consider beating her up for it.

Dib turned to glare at Zim, who merely smirked at him before turning to follow his now quite _public_ slave to their final class of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

"On the table," he ordered, before she'd even put her bag down.

"Yes, master," she muttered, pulling herself onto the table and laying down without argument.

"Computer, restrain her," Zim ordered again, but Xet sat up quickly, before the computer could snap the restraints around her wrists and ankles.

"Restrain me? What for?"

Zim glared, gesturing sharply for her to lay down. "You can take it in 15-second increments, or all at once. I really don't care."

Xet thought back to earlier in the afternoon. Oh god. Oh god he was _serious_? She swallowed. "H-How long? Total?"

"I counted 54 seconds before you obeyed. Lay _down_." She glanced around the room, briefly wondering if she had any chance of escaping her fate. Zim spoke again. "The computer would have you before you could even get to the elevator."

Feeling a bit dizzy and starting to shake, she finally did as she was told, lying down and placing her hands flat on the table to allow the computer to restrain her as previously ordered. She wanted to cry, but refused; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Besides, her screams would surely be enough for his amusement.

Zim stepped around behind her head, reaching one gloved hand over to turn her head so she was staring at the ceiling. Another restraint snapped around her forehead, rendering her head immobile.

Then he picked up the probe, making sure she saw it before lowering it, finding the spot he wanted.

"Well? Increments or all at once?" he asked impatiently.

She closed her eyes. "Just get it over with," she answered, voice rough.

"Very well. If you pass out, however, I _will_ pause the clock until you wake up."

She pinched her eyes tight against the impending pain, only to have her eyes shoot open, blind from agony, as the probe made contact with her scalp. The screams came instantly, unbidden, as she fought in vain against her bonds.

Nothing she'd experienced in all her months trapped here, being operated on over and over, often with only sedative and no anesthetic, even came close to comparing to this.

She did black out. Not once. Not twice. _Three_ times. Not just from the pain, but from her inability to scream and breathe at the same time; he'd placed the oxygen mask over her face almost immediately but it could only do so much to help. Still, true to his word, Zim stopped the clock each time she lost consciousness, starting again as soon as she woke up.

When it was over, she lay, shuddering uncontrollably, moaning, unable to shake off the shock. Zim ordered the restraints released; she didn't move. Couldn't. She shivered, twitched. He turned his back to her, studying the monitors where a continuous running scan of her body was displayed.

"I don't think you'll be walking home tonight," he commented. "So I guess you'll be sleeping here."

She wanted to argue, but couldn't get her mouth to work right and only managed an unhappy moan.

* * *

Dib had been bothering her all day about the fact that she hadn't come home the night before and had only appeared long enough this morning to change clothes before rushing off again. Consequently, she was particularly on edge when the teacher handed her a note before continuing to her desk at the start of last period.

She read the note, once, then again to let it sink in.

"Great. They want me to see the skool counselor. "Xet balled up the note and threw it violently in the direction of the trashcan.

"Counselor?" Zim looked up from reading over his homework.

"Yeah, you know, a therapist? Like it's not enough the whole student body thinks I'm nuts, now the teachers do, too."

"It's not so bad," Dib commented from his desk behind Xet. "They'll ask a bunch of stupid questions but as long as you tell them what they want to hear they'll pretty much leave you alone."

Xet turned, leveling him with a dirty look. "Was I _talking_ to you?"

Dib frowned. "I'm just trying to help."

"Well don't."

Dib sighed, handing his homework to the student assigned to collect it. "Whatever."

"Yeah, 'whatever'." She turned back to Zim. "Anyway I gotta go, Z—uh, master. I guess I'll see you after skool."

"Don't be late," Zim reminded her; she just nodded as she headed for the door.

As she approached the front of the skool, she wondered just what the counselor could want. It was a bit late to be worried about her grieving her father, after all. Finally she reached the door to the counselor's office, and knocked.

"Come in, Xet!" came an entirely-too-cheerful voice. She opened the door and stepped inside. The man waiting for her stood to greet her. "Hello! Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs before his desk before seating himself. "I'm Mr. Manfield. And you, of course, are Xet!"

She sat slowly, frowning at him. "Obviously."

"Great! So from what I gather, you live with Dib, is that right?"

"Unfortunately," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Aw, you don't like Dib? He seems like such a nice boy! I talk to him sometimes, too, you know."

"I know."

"So why don't you like Dib, huh?"

She glowered. "He doesn't know how to mind his own business."

"Maybe he's just worried about you."

"Oh, nice," she scoffed. "You've been discussing me with him."

"I didn't say—"

'You didn't _have_ to. What'd he _tell_ you?"

Manfield sighed. "He says you two used to be friends. So what caused the problem between you?"

She glared. "Why ask _me_? Why not ask _Dib_ if you two are such good buddies."

He sighed again, making notes on a clipboard. "Xet, I'm not your enemy, you know. I'm here to help you."

"I don't _need_ help," she growled.

Manfield was silent a moment, scribbling on his notes. Finally, he spoke again, changing the subject. "Why don't we talk about Zim?"

She paled a bit. "What _about_ him?"

"Well, Dib says you changed a lot while you were... gone... this summer. He seems to think you were staying with Zim?"

She was glaring again. "Yeah, I _know_, I ran away, I'm an ungrateful _bitch_. I came back, so can we just drop it?"

"You were gone almost four months. Surely you weren't on the street the entire time."

"Look, I was safe, and that's all you or anyone else needs to know."

"...All right," he finally agreed. "You're back, and that's the important part. Back to Zim, however..."

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What _about_ him?"

"Dib seems to think Zim is... well, abusing you."

She leveled him an icy glare. "Really."

"You seem to spend an awful lot of time with him."

"So _what_? Friends do that."

"Do you have any other friends?"

She was quiet a moment, before admitting, "No."

Manfield sat back in his chair, tapping his chin with his pen. "Why do you think that is, Xet?"

"I'm not exactly a people person."

"But you were friends with Dib," he pointed out.

"Until he became an insufferable ass, yeah." The counselor was silent a moment, writing in his notes. Xet frowned, wondering what he was writing, but certainly wasn't going to volunteer anything she wasn't asked about. Finally, he spoke again.

"Are you and Zim... how do I put this... an _item_?"

She stared at him. "...What?"

"I mean to say, are the two of you... you know, _intimate_?"

She choked, her face flushing as she realized what he was asking. "Are you asking if Zim and I—EW! The hell is _wrong_ with you? I'm _twelve!_ And he's—he's—" she caught herself before spilling too much about her alien overlord, finally just finishing, "_EW!_"

He kept pushing, calmly. "You can tell me the truth, Xet. I'm not here to judge."

She stood, angrily pounding on his desk with both fists. "NO, ZIM AND I ARE _NOT_ HAVING SEX, YOU FUCKING _PERVERT!_" She needed to calm down, as a familiar burn in her lungs was starting to threaten. But she was too angry.

Manfield sat back in his chair, not entirely having expected such an outburst. He held his hands up, palms out, in supplication. "O-Okay, Xet, calm down. It was only a question. I'm just trying to get a full picture of what's going on with you." But she wouldn't be so easily quieted.

"WHAT'S 'GOING ON WITH ME' IS PEOPLE LIKE _YOU_ ARE CONSTANTLY UP IN MY _BUSINESS_!" She wheezed, for a moment closing her eyes to catch her breath.

"Xet, I'm just doing my job. Please stop shouting at me and calm down." Finally she sat down in a huff, catching her breath while very nearly glaring a hole through the man, her arms once again crossed over her chest. "I'm sorry I offended you, Xet."

"Whatever," she growled, still seething.

"So you and Zim are just friends."

"Glad you finally figured _that_ out," she grumbled.

"...So why do you call him 'master'?" She didn't really know how to answer that one. She glanced away, studying the pencil can on the counselor's desk. "...Xet?" he prodded gently, sensing he'd touched on a sensitive subject.

"I just do."

"Xet, there must be a reason."

She sighed, frustrated. "He likes me to call him that."

Manfield considered that for a moment, before, "...Are you sure he doesn't _make_ you call him that?"

"Of course not," she answered, a bit too softly. "Zim doesn't _make_ me do anything. We're just _friends_. Can I _go_ yet?"

"Not yet. So is it some sort of game you're playing with Zim, then? Like Dib pretends Zim is an alien?"

She rolled her eyes, still not looking at him. "Yeah, that's it. It's a game."

Manfield studied her for a moment before jotting something in his notes. "Xet, while there's nothing wrong with still playing pretend at your age, I just don't think this 'master' business is very healthy."

"Opinion noted," she replied dryly.

"What would happen if you just started calling him 'Zim' again?"

_'You don't want to know_, she thought bitterly. Out loud, she admitted, "He'd probably be pissed."

"...Would he hurt you?"

"Of course not!" she snapped, a little too quickly. Manfield raised an eyebrow.

"Xet, please, be honest with me. Would Zim hurt you if you stopped calling him 'master'?"

"No," she glared at him, knowing the exact opposite was true. "Zim won't hurt me."

"What about yesterday in the hallway? What happened then?"

"That was nothing." And, compared to his earlier, and especially his later, punishments, it really hadn't been. "We were just... _playing_."

Manfield was clearly not convinced. "From what I've heard, it was awfully rough 'playing'."

"It usually is," she muttered.

"Is Zim bullying you into this 'game'?"

Her eyes narrowed, though she still wasn't looking at him. "No."

He jotted something in his notes. "I think I'll be having a talk with Zim anyway."

She sighed. "You do that."

"Well, our time is about up for now. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about? Maybe your parents?"

She glowered. "I do _not_ want to talk about my parents. I didn't want to talk to _you _in the first place."

He nodded, all-too-calmly. "All right, then. I'll inform your last period teacher; I'd like to talk to you again next week, all right?" He was right back to his earlier cheerful demeanor.

"Do I have a _choice_?"

He didn't answer, merely standing and extending his hand for her to shake. She took it warily. "This time next week, then!"

She dropped his hand. "Whatever."

The bell rang, and Xet escaped from the room, hurrying to meet Zim.


End file.
